Aisle 16
by TheChippedCup
Summary: After a major accident, a crazed man, and a stupid decision, Dakota Schiada is now stuck with a mysterious hooded stranger. His appearance ignites the curiosity of a strange company named Abstergo, and an even stranger young man named Desmond Miles. A whole new past awaits her, an uncertain future ahead. And it all started in Aisle 16.
1. The Early Bird Gets The Psycho

**I just couldn't resist myself, alright? I just had to make an Assassins Creed fanfic after reading so many!**

**So, disclaimer. Assassins Creed and everything with it belongs to Ubisoft, the people who made and designed the characters, etc...and my OC's belong to me. **

* * *

_Beep...Beep...Beep...Beep...Bee-_

_SMASH._

_...Be-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee-_

Rubbing a hand over her face, Dakota smashed her face into the pillow with a heavy sigh. Another broken alarm clock. Growling, she rolled out of the warm, comfy bed, and onto the rather hard, cold, and dusty floor. Only giving a muffled moan through her thick blankets, she gave the half smashed thing another good whack with her fist to silence it. Grabbing the bed for support, Dakota stood up and scowled at the electronic device. A few wires stuck out from the shiny green casing, though there were sparks this time. Thank goodness, as she did not feel like replacing another pair of curtains just yet. The screen displayed some jumbled, red, flickering numbers -at least that's what they were supposed to be. Dakota did not care, nor did she even look at those number-like-letters as she picked up the device, wary of the pointy edges on it.

The young woman walked out of her bedroom, down the stairs, and into the kitchen with only a pair of black, fuzzy slippers, some baggy plaid blue pants, and a white tank-top. Throwing the used-to-be alarm clock away, Dakota plopped herself down onto the floor without a single sound. Pressing her head against the cabinet, she gave a long groan. "The sixth one this week...the _sixth!" _Alarm clocks really weren't a thing she particularly enjoyed, but she could never wake up in the morning even if she tried. Unless the house was on fire or a bomb dropped down next to her, there was no way of waking her up.

Deciding not to dwell on it and ruin her Sunday morning, Dakota stood up and slowly walked towards the fridge. She didn't know what time it was, and didn't feel like looking up at the clock at the moment. Instead, she flung the fridge door open, and rummaged through the contents. There wasn't much; a block of cheese, a half-carton of milk, some chicken, salami, eggs, a quarter of a stick of butter, and an orange or two. The only thing plentiful in the fridge was the apple juice. Two full cartons, a pack of juice boxes at the back of the fridge, and a large jar of apple sauce. Though alarm clocks weren't her thing, apples apparently were. Grabbing two juice boxes and the milk, she lazily walked back to the small wooden table in the kitchen. Putting the contents down, Dakota went to the drawers and pulled out a spoon and a bowl, before making her last trip to the pantry and grumbling as she grabbed the cereal. _'Apple-Jacks'. _Not very surprising. Messily pouring in the milk, a few sugary circles fell to the floor or around her bowl as she put in the cereal. Spooning the food into her mouth, she was half-tempted to fall asleep at the table right there. Fortunately, there was something to keep her entertained. Her gray pitbull terrier soon came into the room at the smell of some sort of food, and quickly began to eat the cereal off of the floor. He was fairly large, a little over the average height for a pitbull, with a white chest and chin, and a dark shade of gray on the tip of his tail. Smiling to herself, Dakota gave his head a good pat. "Hey Alfie." His full name was Alfie-Bumble, but as that was a mouthful, Dakota simply called him Alfie.

The dog looked up at the sound of his name, wagging his tail slowly in response. Taking her attention away from the cereal, Dakota cupped the dogs face in her face and stroked his neck. "Who's such a good boy? You are! Yes you are! Being mommy's little vacuum!" The rest was followed by some baby-talk gibberish, to which Alfie panted and wagged happily to. After a good scratching behind the ears and between his shoulder blades, the pitbull gave his owners hand a large, slobbery lick before going back to the floor for food. Dakota went back to her -now soggy- cereal, putting the bowl into the sink once she was done and quickly gulping down both of her juice boxes. Sighing contently, Dakota went over to the couch and sat down, enjoying how she sank into the comfy cushions. Grabbing the remote, the young woman sat crossed legged as the tv came to life. Not taking interest in the show that was currently on, she went to her recordings instead. Though after several minutes of searching for things she hadn't already watched, Dakota growled silently to herself before searching through the channels instead. "No. No. Ew. No. Nah. Nope. Maybe later. No. Ugh, There's noth-" She stopped herself as she saw the movie title on the screen. _The Iron Giant. _Dakota, in her excitement, let the remote slip out of her hands and onto the floor as she restrained herself from jumping for joy. It was her all time favorite movie, and always was able to make her cry. Snatching back up the remote, she pressed on the channel quickly. Sighing in relief, Dakota sank down a bit deeper as she saw the movie was only at the beginning. It was the scene where Hogarth first saw the Giant.

She had only gotten about five minutes in when a short bark resounded from the kitchen. At first Dakota simply ignored it and kept watching the screen intently. Then came another bark. And another. And another. _And another. _After about the tenth bark Dakota couldn't take much more, and turned her head sharply towards the kitchen to glare fiercely at Alfie. Pressing her finger to her lips, she immediately put her attention back onto the screen. It hadn't even been ten seconds before the gray pitbull was right in front of her, paws pressing down into her shins and a large pink tongue covering her face in a thick layer of saliva. Pushing the dog off, Dakota's face contorted with disgust as she put a hand to her cheek. "Oh, yuck! Alfie, what the heck!?" She snapped as she wiped off her face with a pillow. The dog simply whimpered, ears flattened and brown eyes large and pleading. Taking a moment, the young woman finally understood what her dog wanted. Getting up, Alfie wagged his tail vigorously, letting it thump against the walls and the couch. Pressing the record button on the remote, Dakota tossed it over onto the couch before going over to the pantry. Alfie paced around at her feet, whining and giving short yips up to her. Looking down at the dog with annoyance, she rolled her eyes. "Alright, I get it. You're hungry! You're starving to death down there!" She went back to rummaging, pushing cans and boxes to the side in the search of the dog food. "You should watch those animal abuse commercials sometime buddy. Then you'll know what starving _really _is." Dakota muttered to herself.

But, as she searched, she couldn't find a trace of the dog food. Taking two more minutes to search, Dakota groaned for the millionth time this morning before slumping over. _Of course I'm out of dog food..._She thought bitterly. Going up the stairs, thinking very sour thoughts, Dakota quickly went into her room, picked out a random shirt from her closet and put it on over her tank-top. It was her Eagles jersey, but the disgruntled girl didn't notice that as she went back down the stairs, back through the kitchen, and into the laundry room. Grabbing her chocolate, furry Uggs off of the floor, she quickly took off her black slippers and stuffed her feet into the shoes. Putting on a gray jacket and snatching her car keys off of the kitchen counter, Dakota gave Alfie a stern stare. "You're causing me a lot of trouble this morning buddy. I hope you know what I do for you." The dog simply perked his ears and let his long pink tongue fall out of his mouth. Dakota smiled, chuckling softly as she turned and shut the door as she entered the garage. It was a small garage, but her house was quite small as well. Her kitchen connected with the living room, something she was oddly happy about. Her dining room was near the front entrance, which connected directly to the hallway which led into the space between the kitchen and the living room. The stairs were also cramped into the small front space as well, the upstairs only having her room, a guest bedroom, a bathroom, and a small office with a desk, a cabinet, and her laptop. So it was strange that she had a big, navy car parked in the small garage.

Playing with her keys, Dakota hopped into the car and put the keys in with one swift movement of her hand. The car rumbled to life, and Dakota immediately cranked up the heat. The Fall was always so cold in Pennsylvania. Suddenly, she checked the time on the little digital clock next to the radio. _9:36. _Yes! The grocery store was open! Grabbing a small remote-like-device out of her pocket, she clicked the middle button and the garage door opened automatically. Oh, how she loved her little clicker. Smiling happily to herself, Dakota backed out into her driveway, and onto the street. The young woman practically lived in the middle of no where, only a few houses scattered here and there. There was a small wooden area behind her house, from where the raccoon's came out of and ate all her trash. The terrible little buggers. There were deer from time to time, a couple of foxes, and once a stray coyote. But, fortunately, her house was not too far from the grocery store. Dakota lived in a small town -if it could even be called that- with the local grocery store, a Target, a small mall outlet, a Walmart, Starbucks, a few restaurants littered about, and a movie theater. There wasn't much, but the people were very nice. They were awfully sweet, and everybody knew everybody here. No secrets, no nothing. The whole town was like one big family. A family that Dakota was quite happy to be a part of.

It took around fifteen minutes until she arrived at the grocery store. It was wide and flat, the red letters on the front presenting the word 'GROCERY STORE' making Dakota think about her alarm clock. No, she wouldn't get a new one this time. She'd just have to figure out another way to wake up. Parking in an empty slot, she jumped out of the car and walked inside. It was good to get out of the cold, and it was so warm inside, but not so warm that she needed to take off her jacket. Grabbing a little shopping basket, Dakota set on her way. Though at the beginning of her shop her mind was set completely on finding the dog food, she got a bit distracted. Well, totally distracted. First she decided that she needed some more apple sauce, and then she needed more milk, and possibly some lemons, and some bananas, maybe some pound cake as well, and the list just went on from there. She was currently looking over a selection of soups, deciding whether she would go for chicken noodle or tomato soup. Of course during this intense contemplation, one would get startled if surprised. So, when a hand touched her shoulder, the poor girl shot up like a firework and let out a squeak. Turning around sharply, Dakota's surprise turned to relief, then suddenly annoyance. A boy, somewhere in his twenties, stood before her, a smug grin plastered on his rather pale face. His blue eyes shone with amusement, his wild blonde hair suggesting he either really liked Edward Cullen's hairstyle, or he had just gotten out of bed. He wore a simple pair of old jeans and a dirtied gray shirt. Dakota growled at the boy, punching his arm softly. "Don't scare me like that Nick. You're gonna give me a heart attack."

Nick simply chuckled, smiling broadly. "Ah come on D. I was only having some fun." The blonde haired boy said, rolling his eyes at the girl.

"Okay, yeah, well I'm having seizures or whatever on the floor, I'll have you to thank." Dakota snorted, picking out the tomato soup and placing it in her cart. Of course she had to exchange her basket for a cart. The little thing couldn't hold everything! Moving along through the aisle, Nick followed behind her at an easy pace. Dakota halted in the frozen section, looking through the items. "So, why are you here this early? I mean, I shouldn't even be here, but Alfie was hungry and we were out of dog food." Nick gestured to the basket with a questioning look. "Okay, we were out of _a lot _of things." With another short laugh from the young man, she picked out some fish sticks. "But whatever. Back on track. Why're you here so early Nick?" Dakota gave him a glance as she plucked a large slab of meat off of the shelf and into her cart. Taking a look at her fish sticks, Dakota narrowed her eyes at the box. _Custard...I need some custard..._

Nick sighed, rubbing his temple slightly. "I had to get away from my grandma. She's been ruining my house D. Just last night she broke my lamp, the radio, and the toaster! The old bag thought it was some kind of demon or something." He leaned into the shelf beside him. "Curse her religiousness...I mean, she's okay most of the time, when she's not acting totally insane." Dakota raised a brow. She had heard much about his crazy grandmother, and how she thought every single electronic device was some sort of demon. The police didn't even bother to help her, or even calm her down when she called now. "She got kicked out of a senior citizens home D. A senior citizens home!" The frustrated Nick slammed his head softly into the shelf, causing some of the items to shake and quiver on impact. "I don't know what I'm going to do with her. I'm afraid she'll burn my house down at any moment, but I can't just abandon her." He snarled at the wall, following Dakota as she moved along into the next aisle. He crossed his arms over his chest. "And she isn't going to die anytime soon..."

The girl turned around, brows furrowed angrily at her friend. "_Nick!" _

He simply shrugged. "What? It's true."

Dakota rolled her eyes, smiling to herself as she shook her head. Nick had been her friend for who-knows-how-long, keeping her company through the good and the bad. Dakota did have other friends, like Maddie, Kyle, Jacob, and Cathy. But Nick was her best friend, the person she spent much of her time with. Many thought they would make an excellent couple, being so close and all. But Dakota wasn't exactly one to call herself beautiful, with her large charcoal eyes, freckled face, short stature, and tangled, long black hair. Nick was just a friend, and that was all that he could ever be to her. After all of their 'adventures', it was hard to think of the silly blonde in an air of romance. Whether it be trying to having a picnic in the middle of the rain or trying to swim through his frozen pool, most of the things they did wasted time and seemed idiotic, and rather insane. But, it gave them much to reminisce about during their free time. Currently, they were actually conversing about the time they had dressed up as Slenderman on Halloween and stalked children, leaving notes and the like about, when a loud crash was heard. Dakota did not take any mind of it at first, as she thought it was just another little kid who was running around the store and bumped into something. Usually that was the case, and she waited to hear the scolding of the mother. But it never came. Instead, the stern scolding she had expected was replaced by a shrill scream and a loud bang, clatter, and screams once more. Turning her head towards the source of the noise, Dakota raised a brow. Her stomach became knotted, and something told her to run. Run, run, run, _run. _

But of course, Human curiosity got the better of natural instincts.

The loud speaker was getting drowned out by the screams and shouts, but it could still be heard vaguely.

_"AISLE 16! Costumers in Aisle 16, please do not panic! We've called the police! Stay away from Aisle 16!"  
_

Again, Dakota did not listen. Nick pulled at her arm, trying desperately to stop her. But something was attracting her to the seemingly dangerous aisle. Dakota couldn't exactly explain it, but she didn't have time to think about that as she cautiously came up to the number 16. Peeking around the corner, the dark haired girl instantly ducked as a can came flying her way. Much more cautious this time, Dakota lowered her head and looked with wide eyes at the sight before her. A man knocked about through the aisle, his own eyes wide, abnormally dilated, and a strange language coming off of his tongue. But he wasn't _just _a simple man. No, he was tall, burly, and huge compared to the red vested employee who fended him off with a mop. The psychotic stranger wore a white coat, dirtied and slightly brown, with blue trimming, and shiny buttons. An armband or two decorated those large tree trunks called arms of his, feathers tied into them. A bracer of sorts covered his left upper arm, the hand connected to it twitching at every movement from the employee. Torn leather boots that came up to his thigh on his feet, some sort of denim beneath them. A white button-up shirt covering his wide chest, and a what looked like an animal-tooth necklace around his thick neck. A band of red fabric went around his middle, held together by a piece of metal. A stylized a perhaps? His skin was dark, she could see that from the flesh revealed from his leather, fingerless gloves and neck. A hood covered his face, the shadow covering his eyes only leaving the tip of his large nose and strong jaw revealed. Dakota only got a glimpse of those wide, dark, dilated eyes before he had quickly lifted his hood over his face. She had not seen much of his face besides that. The rather frightened girl didn't know if Nick was still behind her or not, but honestly could care less right about now.

The employee, only looking fifteen or sixteen, gulped. "S-Sir I'll h-have to-to ask y-you to c-calm d-down." He stuttered, voice cracking. People watched from behind the odd man, whispering and gasping, screaming and panicking. He didn't seem to notice, either that or he simply did not care. He had stopped his sudden flailing, standing tall, and holding himself in an intimidating manner over the terrified boy. Hidden eyes seemed to flash underneath the shadow, and the mans body remained tense, though he seemed completely calm. The teenage boy kept up with the staring contest before breaking after ten seconds, dropping the mop and running past Dakota. The strangers eyes followed him, and he let out a snort through his nose. The hidden Dakota watched him leave as well, and looked at the man once more. He didn't look back. His focus was now on the staring people. The pulling feeling gone and the voice of instincts screaming in her head, Dakota decided it was time to leave. Taking a step back, she let out a surprised shriek as she toppled over. The can that had been thrown earlier had slid under her foot, leaving the poor girl on the floor. She struggled to get her head off the floor, and mentally groaned at the thought of a bruise on her forehead. Today was definitely _not _her day. But her blood ran cold as she looked up, and saw the man looming over her. His form nearly blocked out all the light from her vision, but she could see clearly the way he suddenly relaxed as he looked down at her, that same fast flash sweeping onto the shadow of his face. Pushing back some hair from her face, the dark-haired girl watched with extreme curiosity as he bent down, reaching out his hand to her. His face remained neutral, not showing a bit of worry or concern. But Dakota dismissed that, and took his hand. It was very large compared to her own, but the grip was gentle as he pulled her up off of the cold floor.

Dakota stood in front of him for a moment, looking up at his hidden face. It was only soft, his jaw no longer clenched, nostrils no longer flared. And then she realized...that he was _scared. _He didn't know what was going on, possibly didn't even know where he was. Maybe he had some kind of medical condition where he forgot where he was and how he had gotten there in the first place, and had spasms. A mental issue would certainly explain the whole clothing thing. But looking over his shoulder at the staring people, her heart softened for the poor guy. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she turned to the people with a sheepish people. "I'm so sorry. My...uh, cousin. He has some...medical problems." A few of them looked to each other quizzically, raising their brows. Others seemed to take that as a sufficient answer and gave a few nods before going on with their shopping. Looking at the man, his jaw tightened again. She began to lead him away, glancing up at him as she went to the check-out counter. "I'm helping you." She hissed through her teeth before giving the check-out lady a pleasant greeting and laying her things out. She paid quickly, and didn't bother to look around to find Nick. She would call him later. Dakota pulled the tall man along, not caring who stared at her as she went. They were almost to the car when he finally spoke.

"Why are you helping me?"

His tone was calm, though the girl could hear the suspiciousness laced in it. His husky voice sent shivers down her spine, but she ignored the feeling and looked back at him. "I don't know." It was true. Dakota didn't exactly know why she was even helping the man, and didn't bother to question herself on it either. When someone like Dakota woke up at nine-something-in-the-morning, didn't brush their teeth or hair, had to miss their favorite movie, fell onto the floor two times in almost the same hour, and broke their sixth alarm clock in the week, they weren't to be trifled with. So he stayed quiet as she pulled open the car doors -he wouldn't even touch the handle- strapped herself and the man in, and started the car. He suddenly jumped as it rumbled beneath him, looking around warily. His hand twitched again. Dakota sighed, cleared her throat to grab his attention. "Calm down. It's just the car." He gave her a bizarre look, but kept his silence as it moved. The dark haired girl looked over at the strange man once in a while, more worried than concerned at the moment. Where had he come from? Why was he dressed like that? Even if he had some mental disorder, it didn't seem too bad as to where he would go around knocking about in some silly costume. And besides, she'd gotten a somewhat-good look at his face, and he didn't look like what a regular loony would. It was easy to tell who didn't have all the lights on, as they usually had matted hair, crazy eyes, and some weird face twitch or something. She'd seen his eyes, and he didn't have any sort of face twitch. Though she didn't know about his hair. But, Dakota could just be stereotypical about crazy people.

Breaking away from her thoughts, she was started at how he looked at the moment. He looked a bit green, his face -well, jaw- a little pale, and hands a bit clammy. Driving a bit faster, she tried to hurry back to the house. It was useless of course, as it just made him look worse. His body convulsed, and she had to look away as the clumpy, brown-green slime came up from his throat, out of his mouth, and onto the car floor. Gulping back some bile herself, she dared not look down, or even take a whiff of air. _And I just got it cleaned! _Dakota thought bitterly to herself. The man breathed heavily for a moment, his stomach letting out an unsettling noise. He was able to keep the rest of his food down as Dakota came into the driveway. Immediately, he jumped out of the car window -she had opened it for him for some fresh air- and put his hands on his knees as more of the disgustingly thick substance came out. Dakota remained in the car, twitching at the sound of his barfing, and utterly dumbfounded as how he had managed to fit all of his bulk through the small-ish window.

She ran a hand through her hair. "Great. Bring a psychotic, motion-sickness loony to your house...that's the smartest thing to do." The man plopped down on the ground beside the messy pile, regaining himself as his stomach settled. Dakota put her head on the steering wheel. _What had happened to the stranger danger rule? You learned that in kindergarten dude! You should remember it now, of all times! This guy could be some axe-murderer, or criminal, or-! _The girl growled at the nagging voice in her head, making it silence immediately. Though the awful voice was right. She didn't know anything about this guy! Banging her head against the wheel again, Dakota didn't even flinch as the horn beeped. It was only for a split second, but the man on the ground had sprung up from his sitting position. Dakota watched with horror as he pulled out a tomahawk from his belt, standing firm on the ground, weapon raised as he waited for some kind of attack. That thing was _definitely not_ plastic. The way it gleamed in the sun, throwing beams over her eyes and momentarily blinding her. And suddenly, the theories of him being an axe-murderer were soon becoming clearer as she saw all the weapons strapped onto him. A bow-and-arrow hung over his shoulder, quiver and all, a long, sharp sword at his side, and an old looking gun-of-sorts strapped against his hip. Now that she was thoroughly looking him over, Dakota realized how many weapons he carried. She was sure they weren't fake, and the girl froze up as his hidden eyes met hers. She should have drove out of there the second he looked over, the second his grip on that tomahawk tightened.

But, she didn't move from her spot, and her hands suddenly fell off of the wheel. No, he wasn't going to hurt her. Dakota had established that earlier, but she was certain this time. And now he knew from the way she stared back at him, that she had no intentions of harming him either. Lowering his weapon, he sheathed the tomahawk, and took a moment longer to stare at her. Only for a moment though, before he quickly jumped over her fence and sprinted into her backyard. Dakota let out a sigh of relief -though she knew for sure that it was short lived- and slouched in her seat. It reclined with her, and the girl watched her garage door blankly before groaning and putting her head in her hands. What had she gotten herself into? Why had she been so stupid? But most of all-

Why did she have to be such a big softie...?

* * *

**This whole concept has been done _way _too many times before. But really, I don't think there's enough of an assassin coming to the present time, instead of some random girl/whatever being sucked into the past. So, here you go. Tell me what you think. Good, Bad, Horrible, Neutral, Fantastico? Creative criticism is welcomed always. Flamers, of course, will be put in a pit with no light and forced to read the Twilight saga.**

**Good day.  
**


	2. Of Names and Colors

**A big thank you to Lurking Lady, AwesomeJellyBean, and CGKrows! And a very big thank you to ****Random, the very first reviewer of Aisle 16! A very big round of applause! *claps* Okay, that's enough. But seriously, thank you guys :3 I love you all! Reviews drive my will power to go on! **

**But I have a request. Please tell me if my character seems Mary-Sue-ish. I really need to know. I know there's the extreme Mary-Sues; super hot, becomes Master Assassin of Specialness in a day, makes the main character assassin go all googly-eyed over them, powers of some sort. But then there's the subtle ones, and sometimes I just can't tell. But then there's the people with Eagle-Vision who can spot a Sue from a mile away. So to you select folk, please tell me if mines the golden target or not. **

**And please remember. Creative criticism given a nice warm hug, Flamers will be given Twilight. Choose your pick.**

* * *

Dakota sat there in her car for a minute, waiting. Waiting for the man actually. It had been five minutes since he had bolted for her backyard, and a sudden worry began to swarm in her stomach. Looking over to the fence, Dakota numbly got out of the car and walked over to the cream fence. Unhinging the lock on the gate, she looked around. Her backyard wasn't too big; a patch of grass. She liked to keep it good-looking though, as dry, brown grass always got on her nerves for some reason. A few flowers grew in the corner, white daisies, purple pansies, red roses, pink dahlias, and white and blue petunias. A few dog toys littered the yard, and if it had been any other day, Dakota would have groaned and scolded Alfie for ripping the stuffing out of them again. But it wasn't any other day. It took a few minutes to locate the man, and she was quite shocked to see him. He was perched on the fence, staring out into the wilderness beyond. He was completely still, completely balanced. Dakota had only seen a cat be able to walk along fences, so the sight of him made her raise her brows high. Coming up behind him silently, the girl stared at him curiously before following his gaze out into the woods. She couldn't see what he was looking at so intensely, as not even a squirrel skittered across the ground. But those dark eyes were narrowed to mere slits under that hood -she could see a small bit of them from the light- that same dilation coming upon his pupils. His concentration was unwavering, so when he snapped his head to look at Dakota she jumped back immediately. He looked her over for a moment, lips in a tight, thin frown. She cleared her throat. "S-So what're you l-looking at?" Of course she was frightened! Glancing between his tomahawk and his jaw, he looked back to the woods.

"There are no enemies in the area." He grunted before swinging off back into the yard. She shivered. Again, that voice just...she didn't even know what it was! So Dakota stood there, staring out in the woods. _Okay...? _Turning around, she watched as he scanned the environment, looking up into the sky, and finally back at the house. Without a single word, he stalked towards the back door and went inside. It only took Dakota a second to scramble into her house as well. He had just walked into her house! Without permission or anything! He was currently investigating the room, glancing up suspiciously at the tv as he touched his gloved hand onto the marble counter. Dakota was going to say something, but unfortunately her words were lost as a gray blur dashed in front of her. Alfie snarled at the man was he picked up her cookie jar, a low growl rumbling within his throat. The man looked at the pitbull, and tensed. Alfie took a step forwards, giving an aggressive bark. The mans hand twitched once more, and with a flick of his wrist and a short '_shink', _a blade was protruding from the bracer on his arm. He flipped it in his hand, holding it like a dagger and scowling at the dog. Alfie only barked louder, not the least frightened. He had to protect his master from this stranger after all. Dakota barely managed to pull the gray dog back before the man swiped at him with the blade, missing his black nose by an inch. It didn't faze the dog whatsoever, and Alfie strained to get out of Dakotas grip. Trying to soothe both the man and the dog, Dakota simply ended up dragging Alfie outside. Shutting the glass door, she gave a sheepish smile over the mans way.

She rubbed her hand behind her head. "I'm sorry about that...he's never barked at anyone before." Alfie was a friendly dog, and usually greeted a person with an excited yip or a slobbery kiss. He never barked, more or less growled. So such an event made Dakota even more uneasy, if that was even possible. The man said nothing, his jaw tight. Well, at least she knew why he kept twitching his wrist so much. And that didn't make her feel any better. Her throat began to feel dry, and she quickly licked her lips. "Um, so, do want to sit down or...?" Silent as ever, he pulled out one of the chairs from the table next to him, turned it around, and sat down. Dakota cautiously sat down as well, placing her hands in her lap. It was silent for several minutes as Dakota looked around the room while the man looked at her expectantly. Finally she glanced at him from her kitty-clock. "Um...whats' your name?"

"Ratohnhake:ton."

Only a small shiver. "Wha-? Ra...Ra-what?"

He let out a small sniff through his nostrils. "Ra-doon-ha-gay-doon." Ra-whatever-his-name-was said slowly.

Silence.

_Shiver._

The man let out a sigh of annoyance, crossing his arms over his wide chest. _He's getting in a hissy fit because I couldn't pronounce his name?!_ "Connor."

The girl gave a small smile, putting out her hand. "Nice to meet you Connor. I'm Dakota." She kept her hand there, waiting for him to shake it. He didn't and simply looked down at it blankly. Frowning, she pulled her hand back onto her lap, and twiddled her fingers around. What now? There wasn't much else to ask him, and she didn't know what to talk about. Dakota was quite sure he didn't want to hear her talk about apples. So instead, she got up out of her chair and went towards the laundry room. She had to get the groceries out of the trunk. Unfortunately, she didn't notice Connor follow her outside until she had picked up a plastic bag full of applesauce and milk and turned around. How could he be that silent?! She hadn't even heard his footsteps behind her, not a single thing indicating that there was indeed another human being behind her and not just air. So it was only right for her to jump out of her skin and drop the bags. Almost faster than the speed of light, Connor had the bags gripped in his own large hands before they fell to the ground. Cat-like reflexes, super sneaky -if Dakota didn't know any better, she would have thought he was some kind of ninja.

Dakota watched him hold the bags, waiting there a minute before letting out a grunt. Dakota came out of her flustered state before getting the hint. "Oh! Sorry, um, just take those inside and put them on the table." With a mute nod, he carried the two bags into the house. He was...helping? Seemed a bit strange, but alright. Dakota wasn't going to complain of course, it always took her forever to get all the groceries inside. She didn't know why exactly, it was either due to laziness or no upper body strength. Probably laziness. Sighing, she grabbed three plastic bags in her arms and walked inside. With the most ungraceful actions she spilled the bags onto the table, some of the items falling out and rolling off onto the floor.

Connor did help get the rest of the bags into the house, placing them down much more gently than Dakota had. After that they were back to square one, sitting on the chairs and staring at one another. Of course Dakota had given up on staring and had her head against the table, looking down at the floor. A thick layer of dust was building up under the table. _I seriously need to start cleaning under this thing...__maybe if I got a new swifer or something. Wait, didn't I see a new mop-cleany-thingy on a commercial earlier? Maybe I-_

"You have a very unusual home." Again, shivers. The girl raised her head from the table to cock a brow at him. The hooded man looked around the room, his unseen gaze finally coming back to Dakota. "I have never seen such devices in others. Such as that cold-box," He nodded his head towards the fridge. "Does it keep your food fresh? How does it stay at such a temperature?" He didn't give Dakota time to even frown at the question before gesturing to the lamp. "And I have never seen a candle like that. Is your husband wealthy?" _Husband? _Wha-? She was only twenty years old! Not even noticing as she flailed her arms, mouth flapping open and closed. No, he didn't notice any of that. He was staring at the lamp while she tried to find words to express what she felt. But, Dakota didn't know what she felt at the moment. Confusion was all that she could really identify. Though as her arms had just began to flap around, all movement ceased as he removed his hood. "I must thank you for what you have done for me. I know very few people who would be so kind to someone of my race."

Dakota didn't really think about his whole 'thank-you', but was instead looking at his face. Back at the grocery store she'd only gotten a small glimpse, and had a very vague image of Connor's face except for his jaw and nose. But all of those thoughts were erased and burned as she stared at his face. the strong jaw she had already noted, along with the wide nose. But he had high cheek bones, a faint scar just under his left eye. Dark, long, brown hair -Dakota wasn't sure if it was truly dark brown or just a very light shade of black- covered his head, tied back by a strip of red cloth. A small braid, with red and green beads came beside his right cheek, with a loose strand or two coming onto his forehead. Right now his expression was soft, kind even. But it was those eyes again that caught her. Oh, those eyes. Like her feelings, Dakota didn't know how to explain those eyes, why they were so striking to her.

But, he was quite handsome for a crazy person.

Finally, she gained back her senses and began to wrap her brain around what he had said. "Your race? Why would someone be rude to you because of your race?" What was he anyway? His skin was dark. Hispanic perhaps? No, it was something different. Something-

"I am from the Kanien'kehá:ka village." Yet again, he had interrupted her thoughts and said another one of those crazy names. He cocked his head to the side, raising one of his arched brows before furrowing them deeply. "Are my people not 'savages' to you?" Connors voice was laced with venom, hatred, and was ended with a deep growl. His face was no longer kind, no. Lips turned into a deep frown, his nostrils flared once more. "I have heard people call me many names before. 'Mutt', 'half-breed', 'animal', and so on. But _savage..." _He stopped himself, crossing his arms over his chest, before shaking his head. He let out a frustrated noise through his nostrils, closing his eyes, and turning his head towards the right. "But that is not my point." His muscles, tensed from the sudden rage, relaxed themselves slowly as she calmed himself down. "You have been kind to me, so I will be kind in return." Connor leaned forwards, brows knitting together slightly. "But I must know, where am I?" Dakota had been awaiting that question in the logical side of her mind. Of course it was currently having its beauty sleep, so the question came upon her quite suddenly.

She looked outside for a moment. Alfie was waiting outside the door, sitting down with his nose pressed against the glass as he eyed Connor. "You're in Pennsylvania." Dakota said numbly, not glancing over to see his bewildered expression.

Connor rubbed a hand through his hair for a moment. "But...I was just in Boston...how..." The mumbling caught her attention of course, plus the mention of Boston. But he quickly shook it off and narrowed his eyes at her. "Never mind. Where is the nearest carriage? I must get back to Boston. I have very important matters to attend to there." Wait-_carriage__? _What the heck was he talking about. No one took carriages over to Boston! That was just -no, _he _was just plain weird. Shaking her head, Dakota got up from her chair and went towards the fridge. She needed a juice box. Of course, Connor followed behind her silently, looking at the colorful little juice pouch curiously Dakota didn't really care about what he thought, and looked up at the clock. _10:50. _Time went by fast when one was dealing with a psychopath. Taking her own sweet time she walked over to the couch and plopped down into her comfy red chair. It was her favorite chair, one of the little throw pillows on it sewn by her deceased grandmother. It was a nice cream color, with decorative flowers and a cute little blue bird in the middle. It was very dear to her heart, so as Connor came by her, she quickly pulled it against her chest and sucked at her straw. Dakota didn't want him to touch or, or even brush his coat against it. He looked quite dirty, dust and muck on his gloves and clothes and face. She hoped that he had at least taken one shower in his life as he sat down on the couch.

He shuffled around a bit before settling down. His back didn't touch the couch, his hand folded neatly in in his lap his, his stare intense. "As I asked you before miss. Where is the nearest carriage, I must get back to Boston." The words were harder, sterner, more demanding. Dakota didn't answer, the sound of her sucking at the empty juice box making him flinch. The girl simply turned her head towards the painting next to her and shrugged.

"I don't know. There aren't really any 'carriages' around here. At least none that I know about." Dakota didn't even care what he did anymore. As long as he didn't break anything. A sudden overwhelming wave of exhaustion fell onto her shoulders, the bags under her eyes showing more clearly. Perhaps staying up till 5 a.m. on her computer hadn't been the best idea after all. She only glanced back for a moment to see his distressed look, hands unfolded and his hand twitching again. It wasn't a good thing when that hand twitched. So, because of that small twitch, Dakota cuddled the pillow closer, and tensed. Connor stared at the ground, and finally let out a sigh. It was silent again, the only sound the muffled barks from Alfie outside. They weren't on square one anymore, they were far behind square one. Possibly square negative five. Was there a square negative five? Probably. The juice box had grown very flat, all the air sucked out of it. Not even a drop of apple juice in there.

Connor growled at her as she desperately searched the juice box for even a little-itty drip of liquid left. "How do you not know if there are no carriages? Do you know nothing woman?"

Dakota raised a brow at him. _Woman? _Did he just call her _woman? _Her mouth opened, then closed quickly. Dakota wanted to tell him off very badly, but held her tongue. No matter if he was some stinking sexist pig, he was a still a stinking sexist pig that was two feet taller than her with weapons strapped onto every part of his body. So, insulting him in her mind, she got up from her comfy chair and stomped up the stairs. The man didn't follow -thankfully- and Dakota boiled as she marched into her room and flopped down onto her bed. Letting out a long, frustrated groan, Dakota slammed her head into her blankets. All she needed to do was cool down, collect herself. Connor was impossible, true, but Dakota could manage to deal with him. At least once she found out where he lived. The moment she knew that, and he would be out of her life and back to Boston or wherever he had come from. Yeah, that sounded nice. She just had to calm down was all...

**_~*~*~_XXX_~*~*~_**

So, it turned out that 'calming-down', was actually taking a nap.

An hour nap at that.

More than enough time for Connor to find his way around things.

It had been a terrifying sight to see the oddly dressed man putting his hands into the toaster. Thankfully it hadn't been burned, though had been extremely warm. Of course that hadn't been the only mishap while Dakota had been asleep. He'd broken the lamp, a vase, burnt out her other lamp, somehow got the peanut butter jar stuck onto the ceiling -how'd he'd managed to get it up there would forever remain a mystery- and made a large hole in her curtains. Of course he had been polite and said a small sorry, which made Dakota a bit better. She could get the curtains fixed later. At the moment she was currently fussing over his hands, trying to make sure that they were one hundred percent okay. Connor simply rolled those dark eyes of his, growing impatient as Dakota turned his hand around for about the twentieth time. "I am fine miss." He said sharply, pulling his hand away from her. But she quickly snatched it back, frowning at the man.

"Nope, it's not 'fine' until I say its fine. Hands aren't just 'fine' when people slot them into toasters." So, she looked over his hands again. They were very large, larger than she would expect, and with his gloves off she could see them clearly. The skin was calloused, a few dark marks from blisters and scratches. They were extremely hot, but Dakota didn't know whether it was from the toaster or they were always like that. The man practically radiated heat, and Dakota had been quite startled to find such heat blowing onto her when she sat down next to him on the couch. One of her windows was open, sending in a chilly draft. But Dakota liked it like that, as she always liked to cuddle into her blankets and drink hot cocoa in this type of weather. But unfortunately she couldn't do that because of the extremely annoyed man in her living room. After two minutes of huffing and eyeing that hand, she let go of it and nodded her head. "Okay. It's fine now." Connor didn't say anything. Instead he simply pulled his gloves back onto his hands and glanced towards the kitchen. Alfie waited there silently, wagging his tail ever-so-slightly when Connor looked over. Dakota had put up the gate she used to have when he was just a pup, not wanting her dogs nose to get chopped off by blades.

Silence took over once more.

Dakota quickly cleared her throat, shuffling on the cushions. Connor remained still. "Um, Connor...so...what's, what's your favorite...color?" _'What's your favorite color?! That's all that you can think of?! Stupid, stupid, stupid-!_

Instead of the reaction she expected -a raised brow, one of those snorts through his nose, even a grunt- he only looked at the floor and furrowed his brows. "I...haven't thought about it before." He...didn't know what his favorite color was? That was actually...kind of sad, really. Now it was Connors turn to shuffle around uncomfortably. "My work has kept me very preoccupied. I never had time to think about such things."

Dakota leaned a bit closer, curiosity in her eyes as she subconsciously played with her thumbs. "And what is your work?" He had a job? What kind? Perhaps he had a job at an office, and cracked from all the pressure of paperwork, an angry boss, or the fact the he was stuck in a little cube all day. Dakota had tried working at an office once...it hadn't turned out so well. Three broken tables and a restraining order later she had a job at the local Starbucks. But her question went unanswered by the dark man, as he kept his gaze firmly towards the ground. So, throwing any chance of getting some sort of response out of the man, Dakota shifted her body to face the man in front of her properly. With legs crossed in front of her, she smiled brightly at him. "You have time to think now." He glanced up at her. _Ah, there's the eye-brow-raise I was looking for. _"I'll help you with it. Now, lets start with the basics. Red or orange?"

Connor crossed his arms over his wide chest, looking to the side. How come he never looked at her unless he thought she was crazy? "Neither."

Dakota frowned a bit. "Alright...pink or purple?"

Again, the only reason he looked up was to give her a bizarre look. _"Pink _or _purple?" _He repeated as if in disbelief.

The girl simply crossed her arms over her own chest and huffed. "Hey, I know plenty of guys who like pink or purple!" Her finger quickly traveled to her chin, tapping it lightly as she stared at the ceiling. "Though most of them do have an attraction to men..." Dakota glanced down to see the edge of Connors lip twitching upwards. It was barely for a second before he went back to his usual neutral stare, but is was something. Smiling a bit broader, she went on. "Fine, not pink or purple. Yellow or green?"

He took around ten seconds before deciding on yet another "Neither."

Dakota nodded her head. "So all that's left is blue. Do you like blue?" Well, he did have it on his clothes. And besides, the only other two colors left were black and white and they seemed rather bland. Connor glanced at the floor, then the ceiling, over to Alfie, before his eyes finally landed to meet hers. He gave a curt nod. Dakota clapped her hands together, rubbing her palms against one another. "Great! Now, what _kind _of blue do you like?" They had started with the basics. Blue wasn't exactly enough to satisfy Dakota. She needed specifics.

But Connor only cocked his head to the side. "Type?" He said slowly.

Dakota sighed heavily. "Yeah, types: navy, sky blue, light blue, midnight blue...?" It only seemed to confuse Connor further, as he shuffled around in his seat on the couch and stared at her. Letting out a frustrated noise, she shook her head. "Just-never mind. Your favorite color's blue, alright?" Shaking her head of any other annoyed thoughts, she resumed her happy state. Dakota would have to be patient with Connor. "Now, what's your favorite animal."

The man took a moment to think about that one. "...the eagle." Something flashed in his eyes as he said it. Dakota couldn't place what it was, but something had been there for sure. Nodding her head, the girl looked over to Alfie. The gray dog had gone from wagging to wriggling in his spot, licking his chops and baring his sharp teeth slightly as Connor looked at him as well. Alfie did _not _like Connor one bit. Dakota had to admit, there was a strange air about the man, but she didn't know why the pitbull would hold such a strong hatred towards Connor. Looking back over to the dark man, she saw him staring suspiciously at the tv. He pointed a large, gloved finger at it. "What is _that?" _He looked at it as if it were about to start spewing flames at any second. _This guy doesn't get out much, does he...? _Grabbing the remote up, Dakota flicked it on. Not the best idea...

As soon as the screen flickered on, Connor had jumped up from his seat, knocking over the vase next to him. Well, at least it had been a gift. As soon as he moved Alfie scrambled to his paws and was over to the living room in an instant. _Wait, how did he get over the fence?!_ He nipped at Connors heels, and Connor, in return, swiped at him with his tomahawk as the theme song of the Big Bang Theory sounded in Dakotas ears. The disgruntled girl quickly grabbed onto Alfie, her hands slipping against his collar. Her palms were always quite sweaty, and at this moment she cursed such a thing. Dakota only hoped that her neighbors couldn't hear the commotion. Unfortunately, that was not the case. The elderly couple across the street had been on their porch, drinking some tea when they heard the yelling, crashing, and shouting. It made them nervous, but they didn't do much about them. The only thing the old, gray-haired husband did was shrug his shoulders and say in his raspy voice, "Kids these days."


	3. Restless Night

**Thank you to all the people who have reviewed, followed, or favorite! It makes me happy to know I made somebody smile :D**

**But anywho, thank you to all reviewers! I hope you all had an awesome Valentines Day! Unfortunately, no, I didn't have any 'special' person this Valentines. But guess what? I'm not crying about it. I DON'T NEED NO MAN! I'M A FREE WOMAN! No man can tie me down! Well, you know...except if they have rope...or if it's Connor...**

**Nevermind, I'm not a free woman. Take me Connor.**

**_TAKE. ME. _**

* * *

"How did the people get trapped in that box?"

Dakota sighed.

"They're not trapped. The people have just been recorded, and the recording has been put onto the television."

"...but that is not what I was asking. How are they trapped?"

Slapping her hand onto her forehead, the frustrated girl held back a snarl. "They're not trapped!" She rubbed her temples. "Okay, let's make this easier for you. The tv is like a painting. A painting that constantly moves. Is that easier to understand?" Dakota didn't listen to his mumbles this time, instead she kept her eyes on the screen. After managing to calm Connor down and make him sit down without jumping every time a person from the tv spoke. Alfie had simmered down as well, and was currently laying down, his gray body curled around her feet. Now they were watching an episode of _Friends_. Alfie She really didn't know what the episode was about-something with Rachel and Ross and their constant love issues- nor did she care at the moment. Dakota's mind was on the topic of Connor, and why he didn't seem to know what anything was. Perhaps he had come from one of those reserves, and they didn't have any electricity. But Connor seemed like a man, and it was odd to think that someone of his age -or at least what she thought his age was- to not be introduced to technology. Though if it were true, it would explain him being jumpy in the car and calling the fridge a 'cold-box'.

Taking a glance at the dark man, she looked him over for about the hundredth time. He was captivated by the tv, watching Monica with an intense expression. His brows furrowed, and his head twitched at the sound of a bird chirping outside. Connor was no where near relaxed in any sense, legs placed firmly on the ground and knees ready in case he had to spring up. Though totally alert and concentrated, he didn't seem to sense Dakota staring at him curiously. Getting more comfortable in her chair, the girl narrowed her eyes at the man. "How old are you?" The question came out of no where, and Dakota had quickly clapped her hand onto her mouth as Connor turned to look at her.

"Twenty one." He said calmly, and looked back to the screen.

Dakota stared at him for a moment. He was only twenty one? He looked far older than that. Perhaps it was the stern face that gave her the idea of him being older, or the way he acted, maybe a mixture of both. And he was quite big. Nick was twenty two and he wasn't nearly as big as Connor. Cocking her head to the side, Dakota turned her attention back onto the tv. Alfie licked her toes, looking up at his master with those big brown orbs of his. She smiled softly down at the dog, scratching behind his ears. Craning her neck she looked her kitty-clock, and was quite shocked by the time it showed. It was already 5:45! Of course she really didn't do anything about it, as there wasn't much one could do about time. Dakota supposed that Connor would probably be spending the night at her house, and inwardly sighed. That meant she would have to make the guest bed. She hated making beds. That was the main reason why her room was usually a pig-sty. It wasn't like that when she had guests, but since she didn't know yesterday that she would be housing a crazy stranger, she hadn't been exactly prepared and cleaned up. So that was why she blushed slightly at the sight of her kitchen. Two half-eaten bowls of cereal, grimy cups, and dirty plates were stacked in the kitchen, crumbs from Girl-Scout cookies covered the floor, and smudges from Alfie's dinner yesterday stained the floor. She would have to do some major cleaning soon.

Suddenly, a buzzing in her pocket disturbed her cleaning plans. Grabbing her phone out of her pocket, she quickly tapped the screen and answered.

"This is Buddy the Elf, what's your favorite color?" Dakota said in her usual cheery voice. Connor looked over to her curiously.

_"D! I've been texting you like crazy! Why haven't you answered? Is everything okay?" _Nicks frantic voice came through the phone, nearly shattering her eardrums in the process.

Dakota rolled her eyes. "Everything's fine Nick. I'm fine. I've just been a little busy with my...guest." Glancing over, the Mohawk ended his stare with a snort and looked back to Ross. Did he not know what a phone was? If he didn't, then he most certainly thought she was insane.

A sudden shuffling noise came from the other end. _"Wait, that guy's still at your house?! Wha-? Wait...you brought him to your house?!" _

The girl winced. "Nick, he had nowhere else to go! I couldn't just leave him on the street! And besides he's been...relatively good." To that Connor only shot her an icy glance.

Dakota could literally imagine Nick rubbing his temples by the way he sighed. _"D, you're talking about some random stranger like he's a stray dog or something. I saw this guy. He doesn't look like a guy you want to get involved with D." _

"I'm not getting 'involved' with him Nick. I'm just taking care of him. Just for a day."

_"D...I only want to look out for you. But, if it's only for a day, fine. I'm going to call you tomorrow and make sure he's gone though." _

Dakota nodded her head. "Okay, okay. I get it. He'll be on his way, I promise. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to pee." With a short goodbye, the girl ended the call and got up. Alfie had been rudely awakened and gave Dakota a sniff before going over and laying down in the kitchen. She made her way down the hall and up the stairs, becoming very annoyed with the fact that the only bathroom was on the second floor. Turning round the corner of the staircase, the glimpse of a shadow come into the corner of her eye. Turning around, Dakota sucked in a small breath at the sight of Connor standing behind her. It was quite dark outside, and the fact that his whole form seemed to be consumed by the shadows made her heart jolt. Why did he creep up on her like that?! Gulping down her sudden fear, she spoke in a quiet voice. "Yeah, um, Connor...stop following me. It's a bit...a bit-"

He didn't give her time to properly respond before turning his head sharply towards the door. His muscles tensed. "Someone is at your door." Not even a second later there was a soft knock. "I will take care of it." Dakota tried to grab his arm, drag him back, but he had swiftly bolted down the stairs and landed gracefully in front of the door. Before he grabbed the golden knob he turned up his good, his features disappearing under the dark. Opening the door, Dakota stumbled down the stairs once she saw exactly who had knocked. It was the elderly woman from next door, Joanne. The poor little woman seemed to shrink under Connors stare, though his frame had relaxed at the sight of her. Who had he been expecting? Squeezing herself between Connor and the door frame, she gave a sheepish smile towards Joanne. But the hooded man pushed her back roughly, covering the small space she had used to. "Old woman, what do you want?" Joanne let out a whispery whimper, backing away slightly. After a long argument with her husband Roger, she'd finally decided to take matters into her own wrinkly hands and see what was going on at that house across the street where that nice girl lived. Of course now she was scared out of her wits, ready to have a heart attack, and drop like a leaf at any moment. Dakota tried to pry Connor away from the door, but it was quite useless. Her feeble strength was no match for him it seemed. Growling in frustration, she tried to see over his shoulder. Pretty much useless, as he was so much taller than her. "What do you want?" The man asked again with that husky voice of his.

"It's alright , this is my cousin Connor!" Dakota said as pleasantly as possible through Connors bulk.

He only turned his head to look at her. "What are you going on about now woman? I am not your-"

Dakota finally managed to push through, and shoved Connor back. Well, it wasn't really a shove to Connor. More like a small gust of wind against his abdomen. "I'm so sorry for all the noise, it's just that we were...playing a game! Yeah, just a silly little game." Joanne raised both her brows suspiciously, staring warily at the man who shook his head behind Dakota. The poor girl was giving her one of the biggest smiles she could, nudging the the hooded man back with her elbow. Though doing so only seemed to hurt her, and she winced as her elbow stabbed into the mans torso. He remained unfazed. "So everything's fine. No need to worry! It was so great to see you! Bye!" And with that Dakota quickly shut the door, leaving Joanne to stutter and mumble at her doorstep. She did feel bad about just shutting the door right in front of her face, but she had more important things to deal with now. Connor mostly. Also, she still really had to pee. So, wriggling around in her spot, she glared at Connor. He still had his hood up, his face forever neutral. "Let's establish some rules here, okay? Rule number one: don't answer the door. Rule number two: don't follow me around. Rule number four-wait, no- Rule number three! Just...sit over there until I figure things out." She pointed to a general direction, somewhere between the blue vase and the dining room table. Not really caring about his questioning stare as she stomped up the stairs, Dakota finally made it to the bathroom. After flushing, washing, and drying her hands, Dakota went back down the stairs in a less frustrated mood and an empty bladder. She thanked the Lord that Connor was sitting on the floor where she had instructed him to go, and not messing around with her things again.

Connor had been staring out the window at the old house next door. He barely even acknowledged that she came into the room. "I never did expect Pennsylvania to be like...this." Dakota raised a brow as she examined the vase, seeing if there was even a crack. She didn't want to take any chances of it being broken while she had gone. "Sam told me much about the different cities, but I never expected to see a sight such as this. With your cold candles, strange carriages, and...and..." Connors brows furrowed as he searched for the word. "What was that black box called again?" He finally looked at her.

Dakota set down the vase. "Television."

"Yes, and that...tela-vision..." The words seemed foreign on his tongue, and he licked his lips as he stared back outside. It was getting quite dark, the sun inching towards the horizon steadily. Only a few birds cheeped, though their calls were faint and rather quiet. It always got dark early in September. Dakota hated when it got dark. Not necessarily because it was _dark_, but for what the shadows held. Though there weren't many criminals and such around these parts -and she highly doubted that anyone around was secretly a crazy axe-murderer- Dakota couldn't help but be frightened at the thought that there were people, or even things, that stalked around in the night, waiting for their next victim to come. She'd been afraid of monsters in the dark when she was little, the ones with the curled horns, sharp teeth and claws, that hid under the bed. But she wasn't scared of those kinds now, no, she was scared of the _real _ones. Yes, she was very paranoid, and Nick told her that often, but there was something that was in the dark that just made her feel...uneasy. After watching many _Law and Order: Special Victims_ _Unit_ too many times, Dakota didn't feel like taking a stroll in the dark anytime soon. There were murderers and rapists, and all kinds of killers out there. Dakota did not want to run into one of those people anytime soon.

She wouldn't realize the irony of that until later, of course.

**~*~*~XXX~*~*~**

Connor looked about the guest room curiously, giving the air a sniff. It smelled musky, and as he breathed in dust caught in his throat. He coughed it out quickly, and looked over to Dakota who was tidying things up. Or at least trying. Tattered carpets, old documents, paper scraps, child's clothing, and a innumerable amount of dust-bunnies were all around the room, not to mention the strange amount of sneakers stuffed into the closet. She had pushed everything off the bed for him to sleep him, making at least one thing in the room to look presentable. Connor didn't mind really, he'd slept in far worse conditions. Though he had to admit, sleeping in a hail storm hadn't been all that bad. The mattress was a bit floppy looking, with bumps and sags all over it. It was obviously very old, but it was large enough. He hated when his feet went over to bedpost. The blanket looked rather nice, with floral designs covering it. There were stitches and patches of different clothes here and there, and a bit of fluff coming out of the corner, and it looked far older than him. The room was a bit small compared to the others in the house, though not to the point of where it was cramped. A small dresser pressed against the wall, and a built in closet near the door, with two windows looking out over to pavement just outside. There were no lamps in the room -well, at least not anymore. After trying to teach the Mohawk how to turn it off and on, she simply gave up and replaced it with candles. But it made the room look dimmer than the rest of the house, and Connor distantly wondered why. Weren't all candles the same? How could ones flame be brighter than the other?

But he discarded the thoughts and looked to Dakota as she wiped her hands against her pants. All of the junk had been moved to one corner of the room, and that seemed good enough for now. Smiling at Connor warmly, she patted the bed. "There you go. Sorry about the mess...I usually don't get surprise guests that often." He said nothing at all, simply went over to the mattress and sat on the edge. It sagged with his weight, and let out a squeak. Wincing a bit, Dakota nodded her head. "So...there you go. Um...if you need anything, my bedrooms just across the hall." And with that, she left the room. The lights suddenly went off outside the doorframe, and the faint sound of a door shutting was heard. Connor eyed the walls for a second more before promptly removing his boots. Wriggling his toes a bit, he placed them next to the bed. His gloves were the next thing to come off, and he placed them on the chestnut table beside him. He took off his coat next, the weight of all his weapons coming off of his shoulders. Though he took his tomahawk and placed it gently under his pillow. He also kept his bracer on, flicking his wrist once more to extend the blade, and then retracting it quickly. For protection, in case it was needed. He still knew nothing of this woman, and though she was kind, he was not going to take any chances. He'd stopped trusting people so easily long ago. Pressing his fingers against the flame, the room instantly became dark. Laying down onto his back, Connor stared up at the ceiling silently. The only sound was his breathing, and that of the soft chirps from the crickets outside.

He was in quite an odd situation it seemed. Connor had only arrived in Boston at sunrise to search the city for the whereabouts of the Templars. There'd been little information coming from his sources, so he had decided to take matters into his own hands and go himself. Achilles' nagging had also influenced his decision. Connor knew the old man cared, just simply did not like to show it. He had just come to Boston, and was going towards one of the taverns, when suddenly he was in the middle of two shelves full of cans and a teenage boy. He tried to remember how it happened exactly, but it hurt his head to try. Had someone knocked him out? It must have been sharp, quick, and painless if someone had done so. But why drop him off at the store? Why not kill him? Why not imprison him? The Assassin did have a large bounty on his head, with all the posters and whatnot. But the time hadn't changed since the time he had arrived -he had learned from the strange ticking device on the wall the time- and the sun seemed the same. Even the day was the same! One could not simply go from Boston to Pennsylvania in barely three seconds. It was simply impossible! The whole thing didn't make the least bit of sense, and made his brain pound painfully. Rubbing his temple softly, he closed his eyes. Yes sleep would do him some good. Perhaps his mind would be clearer tomorrow, or this had all been a dream. Yes, that probably was it. He'd been drugged, eaten an uncooked potato, something! That had to be the answer.

Connor only gotten around four hours of sleep before he awoke again. The wall had creaked slightly due to the wind outside, but the Assassin was on his toes tonight. Clutching his tomahawk tightly under the pillow, he pulled it out and sat straight up, raising the weapon. When he realized what it had truly been, Connor relaxed and placed the tomahawk back under the white fluffy pillow. He had tried falling back asleep, but it was impossible, so he stared at the ceiling some more. After forty five minutes he became fed up with that and turned on his side. The weapon beneath his head shifted into an uncomfortable position for his cheek, and soon Connor was out of the bed and wandering out the door. His eyes still not fully adjusted to the dark, Connor blinked and his vision shifted from the fuzzy black shapes to strange, florescent blue objects. He could see the mutt lying down in the kitchen -he didn't even know why Dakota let that thing into her home- sleeping contently, whining and squirming from time to time from a dream. Blinking once more his normal vision returned, and Connor went down the hall. He couldn't sleep, and the woman had told him to call her if he needed anything...

Coming to the door, Connor opened it slowly and peeked inside. This room was larger than the guest room, with a fairly large dresser in the corner, a mirror just beside it, a soft, velvet rug on the floor. Numerous paintings hung on the walls, some of Dakota, others with other people Connor did not know. They were excellent paintings, almost lifelike. He would have to ask her the artist she went to for such pieces. There was a shelf near the window, which overlooked the pavement much like the others, that had all kinds of apples on it. Marble apples, plush apples, strange apples with hands and feet, small pillow-like apples, colorful apples, of all different shapes and sizes. The blankets also had an apple design, first red, then yellow, then green, then...was that an orange? Yes, her blankets had a pattern of apples, then an orange. Strange, he'd never seen one such as that before. Though he quickly tore his attention away from the blankets, to the person who was cocooned within them. Dakota pressed her head hard against the pillow, her dark hair frayed and all over the place. A bit of drool dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and made a puddle on the pillow, and she mumbled silently in her sleep. Connor wrinkled his nose. He had thought woman were supposed to be beautiful when they were asleep, perfect even. But, the Native didn't know much about woman after all. Hopefully Myriam did not look like this in the morning for Norris. Walking over to the side of the bed, Connor leaned over to sleeping form of the girl. "Miss." She kicked her foot a bit. "Miss!" Connor hissed a bit louder. Her finger tapped. He huffed. "_Miss!"_

Snorting, she groggily opened her eyes and looked around. Letting out a groan once her eyes met Connors, she covered her head with the blankets. "Go away! It's too early!" Dakota had tried to sound threatening, angry, but the words came out slurred and annoyed. Connor didn't move from his spot, and narrowed his eyes at the bunched up blankets. His stare seemed to burn through the covers and into her skin, because she suddenly popped her head back out and glared at him. "It's four o'clock in the freakin' morning! Go away and sleep or something!" The man remained, and suddenly his hand grabbed the covers, ripping them off the girls body. Letting out a startled cry, Dakota snarled at Connor and threw a pillow at him. Since she was tired, it missed him completely and landed near the door. Growling, Dakota curled up onto her bed, shivering slightly from the lack of blankets. Connor simply watched her, standing rooted in the same spot for five minutes until he turned his head away and sniffed. What was that smell? It was awful, and made him wrinkle his nose in disgust. But, it was familiar, and he looked out the doorway.

"Miss-"

"Shut up and go away already!"

Connor took no notice to her attitude, along with a few mumbled curses that left her lips.

"It seems something has desecrated in your home."

"..._What?"_

Immediately Dakota was on her feet, and shot past the Native. He watched as she tumbled down the stairs, smacking into the creamy walls next to her three times, and nearly slipping down each step as she went. Following down calmly, he looked over and inhaled. He nearly choked on his own breath at the horrid stench. On the kitchen floor, was a pile of poop. Horrible, brown, awfully new-looking poop. Connor had tracked animals by their dung, yes, but it had never smelt so bad before. Perhaps this was why the city always smelled. Of course, when one added in sweat, dirt, disease, and death into the concoction, the city could be a bit unbearable at times. But this...the Assassins didn't know anything could smell so foul. And next to the brown pile was the grey dog, who wagged its tail slowly at the sight of its master. Dakota simply balked at the dung, and let out a groan. "Alfie...really?" Grumbling and hissing, she grabbed some paper towels and turned away as she scooped the poop up. "Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew!" Slamming it down into the bin, Dakota picked out the garbage bag, tied it, and hurried into the garage. Connor watched from the laundry room as she tossed it out into the driveway, letting it land somewhere near a large trashcan. She hurried back inside, her skin freezing from the sudden cold of the outside. Alfie came up to Dakota cautiously as she re-entered the house, but the cold, tired, and annoyed girl simply pushed his face away and ran up the stairs. There was a loud slam, a large flop, and Connor knew that she had gone back to her bed. Looking down at the dog, it snarled at him, hackles raised. The Native snarled back, and Alfie retreated towards the dining room. Looking around, Connor paused.

What was he supposed to do now? He never did get much sleep most of the time, and four hours of rest had already gotten him energized for the day. He couldn't go anywhere, and he was quite sure Dakota wouldn't get up again. So, Connor pointed his gaze towards the woods outside. Thinking for a moment, he nodded his head silently and went back up the stairs. He put back on his boots, slipped on his jacket, rearmed himself, pulled up his hood, and quickly grabbed his tomahawk from under the pillow. He then soundlessly went back down the stairs and opened the back door. Kicking dog toys out of his way, the Assassin jumped over the fence, and bolted into the dark woods. The moon was the only one to witness his departure.


	4. Feuding Friendships and Bambi Skins

**Okay, let's get something straight:**

**Desmond isn't coming until later. Like, WAY later. Along with the Temp- er, I mean, Abstergo. They actually don't know that Connor is even in their time period. Desmond's in the Animus right now, and Abtsergo is doing...well, whatever they do. Probably scheming, plotting, something along those lines. Whatever. These guys won't come into play until they know for sure that this IS Connor, for realsies. Cause I mean do you really think Abstergo would waste their time on a guy who looks similar to Connor? Or Desmond, who's concern is mostly on saving the whole entire freaking world? No, I don't think so. **

**And as for the whole apple thing...yeah, that'll come to light in later chapters as well. Just be patient with me, okay?**

**Don't worry, I have it all planned out. I got this under control. Yep, an ace up my sleeve. Got the fish in the bag.**

**Wait, it doesn't go like that, does it...?**

**Never mind. Just...just go ahead and read already!**

* * *

The suns rays blinded her eyes for a moment, and the fluttering and twittering of the birds outside made a distant smile come upon her lips. It was nice to be woken in such a peaceful way than by the shrieking of an alarm clock. Bringing her head up from the pillows, the blankets fell onto her lap as she stretched her arms up to the sky, her back letting out a satisfying crack. Dakota slipped on her fuzzy slippers and made her way down the stairs. That happy smile still graced her lips as she made her morning coffee, and bit into an apple while she leaned against the kitchen counter. Alfie walked around the house, oddly happy as his tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, tail wagging madly. Not once did her thoughts drift to Connor, as her sleepy, blissful mind had already forgotten about him. The hooded man was merely a distant dream at the moment, and Dakota was only thinking of Nick. He said he was coming over, hadn't he? But for what, she couldn't remember. He was probably just coming over to hang out as he usually did. Maybe they could watch _The Iron Giant _together. That would be fun. Or maybe they could attempt to bake cupcakes again. The last time had ended in a disaster, flour, egg shells and yolks, and spilled milk everywhere. The cupcakes had come out on fire -yes, literally on fire- and her neighbors had called the firefighters. It wasn't exactly the first time they had seen smoke coming out of her windows, and the possibilities seemed to worry people.

So Dakota happily sipped at her mug of coffee, the warmth of the liquid making her smile even broader. Her stomach grumbled suddenly, and she rubbed it gently. Right, coffee and an apple wasn't enough to settle her belly-beast. She wasn't exactly in the mood for cereal either...so a bagel it was.

Grabbing on out of the cupboard, she got out the cream cheese and spread it delicately on with the butter knife. Smoothing out the cream, she gnawed at the bagel, taking a break in between to slurp some coffee. Alfie was now at her heels, searching about the ground for any crumbs, and looking up at the bagel hopefully. Dakota looked down at the dog and clucked her tongue. "Really, you don't have to give me the puppy dog pout. You just had to ask." Dakota was feeling rather generous today for some reason. Breaking off a piece, she handed Alfie a less creamy part of the bagel. The dog snatched it out of the girls fingers, chewed it once, and swallowed quickly. Dakota rolled her eyes as he gave a happy yip and trotted over to the small table by the glass door, sniffing around there for any scraps. Sighing contently, Dakota finished off the bagel and looked outside. It was quite nice out, the sky almost clear, a few clouds dotting it here and there. The sun shone bright, and Dakota looked up at her kitty clock to see it was twelve o'clock. Well, she was up pretty late. Yawning, Dakota put down the mug, and rested her head on the counter. Getting up late didn't mean that she wasn't still tired. Of course, she had only begun to drift into a peaceful nap when the door opened and a horrendous smelled filled her nostrils. Alfie barked madly, and a sharp hiss came from something -well, someone. Lifting her head up, Dakota's heart dropped at the sight.

_Oh no_.

_Oh God no._

It was the hooded man -Connor, now she remembered! But...but he had been a dream! Just a dream from her twisted brain! Not real, no! But reality hit her right in the face as she stared at the man, utterly dumbfounded. Of course, it wasn't only his whole being in her house that startled her, it was what he held firmly in his gloved hands. Two dead pigeons, or at least that's what she thought they were, gripped in his left hand, three rabbits in the other, and two hares strapped to his belt. A few droplets of blood from their corpses dripped to the ground, and Dakota covered her mouth. She was going to vomit. They were...cute little fluffy bunnies! Dead! _Dead. _Connor didn't seem to notice her discomfort or her green face, and looked over his game. "There was not much to hunt in those woods. Though I am sure this will do for the next few days." He said it so...casually. So sickeningly casual as he dropped the dead rabbits onto the table, along with the pigeons and followed by the hare. There were dead animals in her house. There were dead animals on her _table_. Dakota twitched slightly as Connor cleaned up a bit of the blood that dribbled onto the floor, and Alfie sniffed the edge of the table curiously. Connor pointed his gaze outside. "I have also brought supper." The girl numbly turned, and her jaw dropped open when she saw what was lying on her backyard. A deer. But not just any deer. A big ass buck with giant antlers that was taking up a quarter of the space in her yard. Oh God, he'd killed Bambi! He'd killed Bambi! "I have yet to skin them, and-"

Dakota's eyes widened with horror. "_S-Skin th-them?" _Her father had been a hunter, sure, but he'd never skinned anything. He just hung the heads up on the walls, in every room of their house. Those lifeless, glassy eyes had been the main reason she never got any sleep. Dakota shivered at the thought of them. She shook her head, trembling slightly as she glanced between Connor and the game. "N-No skinning! I'm a normal person who buys food from the store! I don't go out into the woods in the middle of the night to go hunt for poor little animals! That's just-!"

And then she remembered. Connor being extremely annoying, waking her up, cleaning the poop. That's when he must have gone out. Though Dakota was pretty surprised that Alfie hadn't barked or anything at Connors absence. Well, now his former giddiness was explained. He'd been quite happy the hooded man had been gone. Though as she stared at him, she noticed him tense at her harshness. She didn't like it when he tensed. He looked ready to spring any moment, and Dakota took a second to cool down. _Remember, Mrs. Nice-Dakota, be gentle, calm down..._Sighing, she rubbed her temples. What had happened to her nice, peaceful morning? "C-Connor," She started slowly, turning away from the dead animals in her kitchen. "I don't know where you're from, but around here, nobody hunts for there food. There will be no skinning of any kind. Now, will you please get those-" Dakota gulped down a bit of barf. "Just...take your catch outside. Put them in the woods, eat them if you really want to. _Just. Get. Them. Out_."

The hooded man looked at her in confusion, but let out a sigh through his nose and grabbed the rabbits and the hare and pigeons, or whatever they were, and took them outside with the buck. Dakota stared at the table. There was blood in her house. Bunny blood was on her table. Quickly, she grabbed a paper towel, some cleaning materials, and tried to rub down the table. Gagging at the stench of blood and death, her fingers pinched her nose tightly as Alfie examined a few fallen feathers from the dead fowl. Dakota took a glance outside, and turned towards the water bucket beside her to let a bit of bile come out. He was skinning them. Actually skinning them. Connor sat Indian style in her backyard, a small dagger in his hands as he carefully cut away at the rabbit, removing its hide and tender meat. The green grass she had so carefully tended to was being stained red, slowly drying into a crusty brown. Dakota scrubbed furiously, teeth grinding together as her nostrils breathed in the smell of lemons. He'd barely been at her home for two days and he was ruining her home! Why she had helped him was beyond her, but inside she knew why. He looked so lost and confused, and her sweet, kind side just yearned to take care of him, help him in any way she could.

Unfortunately, that sweet side was now replaced with a severely infuriated, annoyed Dakota who simply wanted Connor _out. _

**~*~*~XXX~*~*~**

The doorbell rang.

Naturally, Connor jolted up from the couch. Alfie began to bark, running around the house in excitement from the familiar scent at the door. The Assassins took no notice of the dog, and slowly crept to the door. Making sure not to be seen, he peeked around the corner and into the window of the door. A man was standing there, and a 'shink' sounded silently through the halls. He could be a Templar in disguise for all he knew, and found out his location. Dakota quickly scrambled downstairs, panting as she flung open the door. A welcoming smile graced her lips as she ushered the man inside, and Connor tensed as he pressed himself against the wall. He was glad that it was midday, as the shadows cast around the house, leaving plenty of places for him to hide and attack if this stranger was truly the enemy. But the girl seemed fine with him, and they hugged each other. Perhaps he was a friend of hers. Though he relaxed slightly, his blade remained out. "Hey Nick. How's you're grandma?" She asked, and though she smiled, her mouth twitched into a slight frown as her eyes flickered over to his spot. She must have seen the gleam of his blade. Curse those infernal lamps!

The man, Nick, crossed his arms over his chest. "She's fine. But I'm not here to talk about her, and you know that." He said sternly. "Now, where's that guy? Did he already leave?" Nick let his eyes wander around the area before returning his gaze back to Dakota. The girl fidgeted under his stare, and nodded her head as she bit her lip.

"Y-Yeah, he left a few hours ago..." It was quite easy to tell she was lying. The way her pupils dilated, the biting of the lip, her constant squirming. Connor could almost see her heart pounding in her chest. Nick raised a brow, not buying it one bit. "No, I'm serious! He told me that he had to go to Boston, and he left. I swear." Well, the Boston part was true. But why wasn't she telling the truth? Maybe this man was a Templar, and she didn't want to expose that she was hiding an Assassin in her home. But how could she possibly know that he was an Assassin? Most people didn't even know about their secret war!

Nick frowned. "Uh-huh, yeah. And I'm a talking penguin. Where is he D? You promised you'd get rid of him before I came!" Dakota winced, and looked up at her friend apologetically.

"I'm sorry Nick it was just...he needs my help. I think he might have some problems or something, and I can't just throw him out on the street! Connor...he needs someone to care for him. Once he's better, I swear, I'll let him go." The Native furrowed his brows at Dakota. He didn't have any problems! He was in perfect mental health! Or at least Dr. Lyle had said so. And he certainly didn't need someone to look after him. But it was kind of this woman to want to help him and care for him, as he knew few strangers who would. "As long as it takes, and no longer." She repeated, nodding her head.

The man sighed, and rubbed his temples. "I guess. But wait-Connor?" He asked in a confused manner.

Dakota nodded her head. "Yeah that's his name. Well, he told me this other name, but I couldn't say it at all." The girl looked around. "Where is he anyway? Connor!" She called. Letting the blades return into his bracer, the Assassin emerged from the shadows and walked towards the two. Nick seemed startled by his appearance, taking in his form. All of his weapons were off, set onto the coffee table by the couch under the instruction of Dakota. Though his bow was still slung over his shoulder, as well as the quiver, all of his weapons were gone from him. Connor had only agreed to do so because he knew this area was rather safe, and that he could take down the girl easily. She was so much smaller than him, and looked in no condition to be fighting a man of his size. Though this Nick was tall compared to the girl, he was at least three inches shorter than the Native. Connors hood was up, making him look even more intimidating. But that was exactly the approach the Assassin wanted. He had to make this man know that if he tried anything, Connor would not hesitate to kill him. Or beat him to a pulp if it didn't escalate to that level. Dakota simply smiled. "There you are Connor! This is my friend Nick." Both men remained stiff, sizing each other up.

Nick's face remained neutral, though suspicion slowly crept into his features. "Hello, Connor. It's...nice to meet you." He hesitated. Perhaps this man was not as friendly towards Natives as Dakota was.

"Likewise." Connor grunted.

There was a silence, and the two men at each other. Connors dark gaze clashed against Nicks own lighter one, the tension between the two almost visible. Connor did not like this man, and the feeling seemed to be ditto for him. The Assassin didn't know what it was, but his instincts told him not to trust the stranger. And Connor always listened to his instincts. Dakota shuffled on her feet. "So, um, Nick. You want some coffee or something...?" Taking another second to look at the Native, Nick turned to the girl and nodded. Dakota quickly led him into the kitchen, Connor following behind. Alfie happily trotted at Nicks heels, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail wagging madly. Nick sat down at the table while Dakota went into the kitchen, looking for the coffee beans. Connor simply stayed standing, watching the girl bustle about. The table had been thoroughly cleaned, not even a scent of blood coming to his keen nose. Only the irritating, unnatural smell of lemons. Strange. But, although she had been mad at him for bringing his hunt into her home, she had allowed him to keep the actual meat in. He kept the skins of course, cleaning them and sneaking them up to the guest room. He had thrown the bones and other unused organs into the woods. Though Alfie had managed to break off one of the bucks ribs and was now gnawing at it happily on the floor. Connor would have to cook the meats soon, as they would spoil. Dakota had reassured him that the cold-box would keep them fresh, he had his doubts. Dakota growled in frustration as she could find no coffee beans, and looked over to the two men. "Wait one second, I think I left some in the trunk." And with that, she was off into the laundry room and out of the house.

Connor was surprised when Nicks head snapped to turn and look at him. "Look buddy, I don't know who you are or what's wrong with you, but if you even think of doing something to her-"

He instantly took notice of the sheer protectiveness in his voice. It was quite obvious this man cared for Dakota. But Connor glared at Nick coldly. "I would _never _even dare to think of hurting a woman, more or less one who has been so kind."

The mans eyes simply narrowed. "I don't trust you. She thinks that you're some kind of lost little puppy, but I know better." Nick suddenly sighed and slouched in his chair. "I can't change her mind now though, she's completely set on helping you. I don't exactly understand why, but she is." A hard glare set onto Connor once again. "I won't say anything to her for now. But if you so much as look at her the wrong way, if you cross the thin line your already teetering on, I'll do whatever it takes to _take you down." _The Native didn't so much as scoff, holding his ground. He'd killed men three times his own size, taken down armies with only his tomahawk, and this man thought he could take him down. But Nick didn't seem to realize who he was, and didn't realize that even saying that was ridiculous, and pure suicide. "And-" The mans eyes widened suddenly, and the words he had been forming flew away from him. Connor followed his gaze, and his eyes landed onto the coffee table.

A mountain of weapons was piled onto it, a few poison darts rolling onto the floor to join the smoke bombs. His flintlock pistols were already gathering bits of dust, and his rope dart looked like it was becoming knotted. Hopefully his tomahawk wouldn't get caught in it like last time. His new axe was propped against the couch, along with his wooden club, a few tints of red at the end. Blood was always so hard to clean off once it dried. His sawtooth sword was the most eye-catching compared to the french sword beside it, jewels encrusted into the handle. It was actually much lighter than it seemed, and stronger too. Connor glanced back to Nick to see the man slack jawed at the mound. His blue eyes met the Natives own dark ones, and he gulped. "D-D!" Of course, Connor could understand his fright. Most civilians were shocked to see him with so many weapons, as one would usually only carry around a pistol for protection. Dakotas head popped out from the door, looking at her frightful friend as he quickly got out of his chair, and scrambled over to push her out the door and into the garage. Connor went to follow, but the sound of the door slamming shut made him halt. Shutting the door would do them no good; Connor had other ways of hearing them. Of course, the first one he tried did him no good. Pressing his ear against the door only gave him muffled whispers and half of his face was annoyingly cold.

So, being the resourceful assassin that he was, Connor made his way out into the back, and swiftly climbed up the side of the house. It wasn't all that hard, as there were window ledges for his feet and a small lantern connected to the wall of his hands. Lifting himself onto the roof, he tested it for a moment before walking. He was always a bit hesitant after he had jumped onto a roof in the midst of a chase and broken through. It wasn't any better that it had been a women's changing room. An _old _woman at that. Those wrinkles would forever be ingrained into his mind. The Assassin shook his head. Now was definitely not the time to be thinking of _that. _Making his way over to the ledge, he looked down. Ears perking to the sound of voices, Connor leaned his head in, going down into a crouch. He listened.

"_-maniac! Do you even realize what he has on your table?! Weapons! Actual, real life, working weapons!"_

There was a sigh. _"I realized that Nick...but he's not going to hurt me! I know he's not. He...I just know..." _There was a small pause. _"I realize that he could. I realize that he's big, and has a butt-load of weapons, and looks like he could crush me if he felt like it. But he wouldn't Nick, he hasn't-"_

_"That doesn't mean he won't." _A male voice, Nick, hissed.

_"Will you please let me finish?" _The female voice, Dakota, snapped back. _"But I looked at him, and I saw that he wouldn't. Besides, if he had wanted to, he would have done so already. He could have killed me in my sleep, but he only woke me up to tell me that Alfie had an accident in the house. Just please give him a chance Nick? I'll show you he's good, I will-!"_

Something crashed within the garage. _"Damn it Dakota! You don't even know this guy, he's barely been here a two days! And you think you know everything about him! That he's good and nice!"_ The silence was filled only by the sound of harsh breathing. The Assassin became tense at the silence, and was about to spring down from his perch before a voice broke through. "_Well guess what? The worlds not filled with butterflies and rainbows. This guys dangerous Dakota. While you think he's just some confused lost guy that needs your help, I saw something else. He's a killer D. I don't think so, I_ know _so.__ I saw blood, real, actual blood, on one of his swords." _Stomping footsteps echoed from the garage, and Connor backed away slightly to conceal himself underneath the chimneys shadow as Nick stormed out onto the driveway. He was headed for a small, blue metal carriage that Dakota had called a 'car', but stopped. Nick looked over his shoulder. "Just because you think you know him_, _don't let you guard down D." In a few moments he is inside of the car, and with a growl from the metal contraption, he was already a few miles down the street.

Connor remained on the roof for several minutes, brows furrowed at the recent event. What had just happened? He knew that it had been about him of course -he wasn't stupid- but it had all happened rather quickly. He only noticed how quiet it had been when a small frustrated breath came from the garage. A small clanging resounded, along with a few inaudible muffles. The Assassin jumped down from his perch without so much as a grunt as he landed on the ground, and narrowed his eyes. It seemed his presence had gone unnoticed by Dakota, as she was on her knees as she began to clean up Nicks mess. Apparently that crashing sound had been the sound of toppling boxes. Plastic containers, worn out clothes, old toys, and what had been glass cups and plates that were now mere shards laid scattered on the ground. Dakota was carefully placing each into their respectful box slowly, also seeming to think over what had happened. None of it really effected Connor, as he had just met this man. And although the Assassin wasn't the best at reading emotions, he could see the hurt. Feeling awkward simply standing there, but not wanting to try and comfort her, he cautiously walked up next to her, kneeled, and began to pick up the fallen items as well.

Of course, Dakota noticed him and had her own little panic attack by how he had so easily snuck up on her, but said nothing. Connor, only wanting to give silent help, was failing miserably at it. He had no idea which items went into which box, not being the best at reading either, and so Dakota would have to take it out after he had dropped it in and put into the proper box. He was fine with that, but as he was about to drop a dirty doll into a box, Dakota's hand caught his wrist. His lip twitched downwards, and he quickly snapped his hand away from hers. He loathed physical contact of any kind. The white men he worked with never did realize that, even when he shrugged his shoulders away from their hands. He had once had to slap their hands away in order for one of them to realize that he did not like their 'grabby-hands'. The dark haired woman looked at him quizzically for a moment before shaking her head and pointing to the farthest box on the left. "It goes in there." She directed. "Dolls go in there, plastics in those two, and pla-" She looked down at the glass. "Never mind."

Connor merely grunted in response, and carried on. Seconds passed by in the silence, every now and then a 'clunk' from the items being dropped in the boxes filling his ears. Connors shoulder twitched as he put a container down. He never liked the silence. It was so empty, so lonely...

Just like him.

A hiss snapped him back to reality, and he turned his head to see Dakota clutching her hand. She bit her lip as the thick, crimson liquid came from her cut and dripped onto the floor. "Damn glass..." She growled to the shard that had a red stained tip. Without a word, Connor snatched her hand from Dakota and examined it. "What-? Con-!" He put his finger to his lips. Looking back down at her hand, his eyes narrowed. The cut wasn't too deep for stitching, but not something that could be left unattended. He knew of many diseases that one could catch from an open wound. Keeping a tight grip on her wrist, he fished into his pocket to retrieve a roll of white cotton bandage. Ripping of an efficient length, he quickly wrapped it around her hand. Tying it into a tight knot, Connor let go. Dakota quickly brought it to her chest, looking it over herself. A red blob was slowly blooming on the white, and Dakota cringed as she tried moving her hand. The Assassin glanced at her as he stuffed the bandages back into his pocket, only to see her staring at him. She did that a lot. "...Thanks, I guess? But you know, I couldn't just gone and gotten a band-aid or something..."

He stood up. They were done packing. "The cut was deep. The bandage will need to be changed in three hours. I would not recommend using it too much." Connor wasn't a doctor, but he had learned basic medical treatment from Dr. Lyle. Stitching, infections, treatments, rashes. Simple things. Dakota stood up as well, kicking at the shards gently with her foot. Connor looked to the ground, taking a sudden interest in his boots. Silence once more. It was always so silent. Why was it always so silent? Turning his gaze back up to Dakota, he saw the woman poking at her hand. Brows furrowing, he gently pushed away her unharmed hand from the red bandage. "And do not touch it. It will agitate the cut." She only looked at him, blinked, and resumed poking at her bandage. She cringed once, but that did not stop her. Frowning deeply, he pushed her hand down. "_No _touching." Again, she ignored. His patience was wearing thin. He grabbed her wrist in mid-poke, and stared her down sternly. _"_What do you not understand about _do not touch." _His voice had not risen at all, and Connor would describe his tone more as annoyed then angry, but Dakota shrunk back. Only for a moment though, barely a second before she popped back up and tried prying her wrist out of Connors hand. She failed of course, and would not succeed in trying to slid her wrist out, but kept trying anyway.

She raised her head high and cautiously folded her one arm over her chest, careful not to hurt it anymore. "Fine." She huffed. It was a natural instinct to poke at something to see how much it hurt. Simple human curiosity. Connor let out a sigh through his nose, letting go of her wrist to walk to the edge of the garage. Looking at around the area, he raised a brow. He must have been out in the country by the looks of it. It wasn't crowded like the cities, only a few homes dotting the land and one straight road dividing them into different sides. Glancing ahead, he saw something peeking over a white fence just several feet away. There was a small gasp before a large pair of green eyes darted back down behind the wood, only to slowly pop back up to stare at him. Connor had only taken a step forward to investigate when a gray blur rushed around him, the thing barking madly as it whirled around like a hurricane. The dog nearly knocked over the Assassin when it bumped into his legs, and Dakota shouted something behind him. "_ALFIE!" _She shrieked, trying to chase after the dog. The woman was no where near as fast as that furry demon, who yipped happily as he ran in excited circles. "No! Bad dog Alfie! Very bad dog!" What was calling him 'bad dog' going to do? Alfie certainly didn't seem to hear her at all, and Connor was quite sure that the mutt wouldn't take offense in it.

Though the sight was highly amusing, he knew he couldn't just stand there. Dakota was going to get nowhere in trying to chase the dog around and calling it names. So, when the dog hurtled towards the Assassin, his large, gloved hands quickly gripped the collar around his neck. Alfie let out a choked yelp at being pulled so harshly, the man who was now gripping hard at his fur and collar pulling him back. Dakota, rather breathless, stopped her running to hold up her hand. Connor could see the red dots forming on the white bandage. "Tha...Thanks for that..." She wheezed. Apparently she wasn't much of a runner. Connor simply grunted, pulling the dog along back into the house. The mutt yapped at him, trying to bite his hand. The assassin wasn't bothered by it; his hands had been bitten so many times he was losing count. Dakota followed behind him, still trying to catch her breath. She'd barely been running at all, how could she be so tired? Connor shook his head. Sometimes it was hard to remember the colonists were not trained to fight or run, like himself. They were very good at screaming, he'd give them that.

Literally throwing Alfie inside, he heard the door shut behind him. He cast his gaze towards the woman for a moment. She looked quite sullen at the moment, leaning against the frame of the doorway. He shifted uncomfortably. "I want you to know, what your companion said was not true." Dakota gave him a look, raising a brow in a questioning manner. Connor didn't turn to face her fully. He knew that Nick had been partially true of course -he killed people. He wasn't a killer per say, but he did kill people. Of course, he wasn't going to say Nick was true about that detail, knowing it would cause the woman much alarm. "I will not harm you." _As long as you do not harm me. _Dakota had been right about one thing, he could easily snap her in two if he pleased. And he would do so if she tried anything on him. Again, he didn't say that out loud. She had been a gracious host to him thus far, and he needed somewhere to stay until he could get back to Boston. Dakota simply nodded her head slightly, looking around the room for a moment. Connor looked down to the ground. He had never been the best with people, his social skills rather rusty. So that was why it was silent most of the time. And it seemed Dakota didn't have much to say either, as she turned on her heels suddenly and opened the door to the garage once more.

"I'm going for a drive." Connor nodded his head. "You...just stay here." The assassins nostril twitched. So, she was leaving him here alone? Well, now he could fully investigate the house. Dakota was almost out the door when she suddenly turned her head, pausing in mid-step. "And don't touch the toaster." The door shut behind her softly. Connor waited in his spot until the sound of the metal carriage rumbled through the doorway, waiting until he could hear that she was totally gone. He rubbed his hands together, looking about the room.

Time to begin his search.


End file.
